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So, the Big Red Car flew back to North Korea with the El Supremo of NK, Kim Jong-un on the heels of his historic summit with President Trump in Singapore.

“Wow, that Donald Trump is a whirlwind. We are going into the beachfront condo development business together. What is that?”

We got started right away as soon as Kim’s Air China plane made cruising altitude.

BRC: “So, Kim, can I call you Kim?”

Kim: “No, you can call me the Supreme Leader, you impertinent muscle car. Haha, just kidding. Call me anything except late for chow. Damn I never ate so well as at Singapore. That President Trump puts on a very nice feed.”

Kim: “Yeah, it was either du-nuke — that’s what Donnie says — or get bombed into the Stone Age or be crushed by the economic sanctions. So, yes, we will de-nuclearize.”

BRC: “How long?”

Kim: “We start tomorrow because we don’t get any of the benefits until we are de-nuked. Don made that clear. No goodies until de-nuked.”

BRC: “You and President Trump get along?”

Kim: “Hell, yes. Showed me the inside of his Presidential limo. Wow! But, he doesn’t have a toilet in it. I have a toilet in mine.”

BRC: “Since you brought it up, what is the deal with traveling with a limo with a toilet inside?”

Kim: “Don’t want anyone to get a hand on my shit and make a chemical analysis and determine I’m bat shit crazy, plus I sell the stuff on Ebay.”

BRC: “Bit weird, no?”

Kim: “Weird is in the eye of the beholder. You, my friend, are a fucking Chevrolet Impala convertible who writes a fucking blob. I mean a blog. Sorry. Pot. Kettle. You think you’re a little weird? I do.”

BRC: “Damn good point, Kim. Never thought of it that way. So, Kim, you’re going to develop some beachfront condos with President Trump?”

Kim: “Yes. I own all the beachfront in all of North Korea, so the land acquisition is going to be easy. Don said he’s going to have Ivanka head up our joint venture development company. I didn’t think an American President could do something like that, but he says it’s fine.”

BRC: “So, the beachfront condos are a GO?”

Kim: “Hell, yes. Donnie said he’s going to teach me the business. Plus, I get to work with Ivanka. That’s not bad, eh?”

BRC: “So, Kim, did it come up that you’re a murderous bastard who imprisons your own people in concentration camps and routinely starves them to death while you live like a king and spend a fortune on developing nuclear weapons?”

Kim: “Sorry, Big Red Car, I am going to have to end this interview. My boys will be making arrangements to drop you into the South China Sea. You can’t talk to me like that.”

BRC: “Now, wait a minute, Kim, how about the American you tortured to death? How about him? How about killing your own brother?”

Kim: “Don says that shit’s OK, but only if I denuclearize Korea. He says he’s focused on what’s best for the American people.”

BRC: “How about you being unable to pay your own hotel bill? You broke dick, tin horn dictator? How about that?”

Kim: “Too far, Big Red Car. Let’s see if you can fly or you can swim, shall we?”

BRC: “You going to really follow through with this or is this another head fake, like your father and grandfather?”

Kim, leans in, whispers, “I want to put a head fake on you, you arrogant American convertible, but this President has big brass balls and he will annihilate me and my miserable prison state country if I cross him. This is not Obama. This is not strategic patience — whatever the fuck that was. No, this guy is not somebody I can screw with. Now, I am sorry, but into the South China Sea for you, Big Red Car.”

Hey, it could have happened that way, but what the Hell do I really know anyway? I’m just a Big Red Car. Be good to yourself. Let’s pray for peace, shall we. Well played, President Trump, great first step.